The Thundercling Podcast

Juliet Hammer wants to work. After compiling certificates and gaining her Certified Strength and Conditioning Specialist (CSCS) accreditation, she spent almost two years building a clientele, filling her schedule with 35 sessions a week. And then, the coronavirus pandemic struck...and here we are, stuck in our houses, banished from the crags, and wondering how to stay fit in a time of high anxiety and restless quarantine. After initially losing the lion's share of her weekly sessions, Juliet scrambled to promote her hybrid program, which allows remote training for climbers and general population folks, at home and using whatever they can muster, even if that is just a couple of 12 lb dumbbells. It worked. She's gained enough new and retained enough old clients to stay afloat in this time of flux, but she's looking for more. A world class climber, a competition vet, and a passionate and whip-smart advocate for health and fitness joins us today on the show. It's a rough time for all of us, that's for sure, but Juliet provides us a moment to forget about the quarantine and remember that we're still housed in bodies that crave activity and challenge. Even if it that means doing dips on kitchen chairs and jumping rope in the driveway... Apologies for the Zoom-enabled pod. Not ideal, but we're working with what we got. If you'd like to drop us an email, pitch, or a good "stay in place" training story, get a hold of us on Instagram @thethundercling or by email at [email protected]. Cheers to Ryne Doughty for the great music, as always. Time for another free show online! Take care, you guys. Be good to yourselves and your community.

You guys, listeners and friends, have been with us for almost two years. We dearly love creating this podcast, but sometimes life and death and love and sorrow happen. The next podcast is going to be a couple weeks late, and we think you deserve to know why. Last Friday, on March 6th, my friends Nolan Smythe and Aaron Livingston were blasting up Logical Progression (5.13), a free route on the 2,800-foot El Gigante wall in Basaseachic Falls National Park, Chihuahua, Mexico. Nolan, leading up pitch 14, copped a rest on a comfy ledge. The ledge crumbled beneath him, severed his rope, and this world lost one of it's finest. You can read about the horrific, freak accident here. After the accident, thank god, Aaron mustered his formidable climbing and guiding skills to rope solo to safety, where he was rescued some 30 hours later by local climbers. I can't express the feelings...I can't even say how relieved so, so many of us were to hear of Aaron's rescue. But we lost Nolan. Aaron, much more than his best friend, lost Nolan. Here's the thing about Nolan. There are people you lose in life, or you hear of others losing, and the bromides float around, like, "He was the nicest guy you can imagine." "He never had a negative thing to say about anybody." "He was the most loving person." The thing is, those platitudes and cliches are born of some magical truth, sometimes. They exist because these people exist. Nolan was one of the finest, kindest, most openly loving people I've ever met. I poked fun at him for it. He said "I love you" often and hugged like it was a habit he couldn't shake. In the six years I knew him and climbed with him and worked alongside him and sat around campfires with him, I never heard him disparage another person. He was fascinated by life and driven like a child in a toy factory. He loved climbing and BASE jumping so much you simply couldn't believe it, how this dude could just go and go and go. Choss, big walls, butt-dragging boulders...it didn't matter. As long as he was with his vast group of friends and partners, his psyche was enough to fuel an entire adventure. Nolan made you feel like you were the most special, most important person. But the truth is there is an enormous community grieving right now because he made everyone feel this way. My heart and my love goes out to them. My chest aches for Aaron Livingston and I can't wait to give him a hug Nolan would be proud of. For his family and Savannah Cummins and the Moab crew and our Bishop family and Jackie and Audrey and so many others. So, we're going to delay our next podcast about 10 days because I don't feel like talking about climbing and joking around right now. Because we were going to record this notification, I also reached out to some climbing doctors to give us all a bit of info and guidance vis a vis the Coronavirus. Michael Pang and Radhika (Rad) Ratnabalasuriar were kind enough to write up some climbing specific precautions and we speak about that a bit at the end of this abbreviated pod. We'll be back around the 25th or so. We'll be psyched. For now, we're going to lay low and think about and support our friends. It's a good time to tell your buddies that you love them. Apropos of nothing at all. Nothing is guaranteed in this life except what we choose to do in this exact moment. Let's fill that moment with love. -DM Please consider donating here to help assuage the costs of bringing Nolan back home, and to allow his loved ones the time to grieve. It would mean the world to so many of us who cared so deeply for Nolan. Photo: Nolan going up Jedi Mind Tricks in Bishop, CA. Aaron coming down. The best climbing partnership I've witnessed in 21 years of climbing...

Three decades ago, a skinny climber, a kid, walked into the Straight Up climbing hold warehouse in Boulder, CO, pestering the owner for a job as a shaper. He kept haunting the joint until the owner gave him a job and stuck him in a dusty corner of the warehouse. All these years later, that kid has built the legacy of the greatest hold shaper to ever take sandpaper to foam. Ian Powell began climbing in Waco, TX, eventually moving to Boulder to be closer to the mecca. Once in the door with Straight Up, Ian would spend the next thirty years redefining what being a shaper means. He started e-Grips with Ty Foose, revolutionized the industry by shaping urethane holds, became the first to weave artistic renditions of stone texture onto the holds. His Kilter board features the first glowing holds on a training board. Texture kept him awake at night. He was obsessed. Ian stepped away from shaping and setting in the early 2000s, eager to delve back into fine art. After a bit of hustling, his sculptures began bringing in tens of thousands of dollars, with one piece selling for over $300,000. He was in an entirely different reality. Along with the money, the first of his life, came a cocaine habit. Within ten years he'd find himself living on the streets of Denver, homeless and freezing, a monster habit drilling him into the ground like a screw. He'd end up in prison for credit card fraud, the least violent and most impersonal way to fund the drugs that were entirely dismantling his life. He shot out of prison focused. He'd been sober since the moment his ass hit the bunk. Working behind the walls of the Spot Gym in Boulder, Ian began assembling what would soon become Kilter Grips. Today, after continued innovation and steady growth, Kilter is one the largest and most well-respected hold companies on the planet. I'd be remiss if I didn't gird Ian's story with a couple features and interviews. First off, Caroline Treadway's magnificent feature of Ian in Rock and Ice blew my mind. It is the most definitive piece on Ian out there. Next, ClimbTalk did an interview with Ian and Clark Shelk (you know, the inventor of the crash pad, Cordless, yadda yadda), which really delves into some of Ian's thoughts about climbing, the industry, and addiction. Have a story or essay you’d like to share on Thundercling? Comments, questions, relationship advice? Shoot us an email at [email protected] or find us @thethundercling on the Gram. Perpetually thankful to Ryne Doughty for the tunes.

It's not every day that you meet a climber who can effortlessly breathe authenticity into rock climbing. A climber of eye-popping ability who doesn't care about Instagram followers, doesn't care about grades, who really doesn't give a simple shit what anyone thinks. Hunter Damiani is one of those guys. Here in Colorado, Hunter is a known quantity. He's the artist behind the Spot gym's crazy Psychedelia Competition, random logo and commissioned work, and even Access Fund clothing. He is also one of the most passionate first ascent boulderers in the state. He's put up scores of problems up to V13, both hidden in the backcountry and right out in the open. Hunter's journey through climbing, however, is the real trip. After discovering the sport in Florida around 2000 he mentored under rowdy southern climber, Chris Sierzant. Along the way he won comps, blew up his face with homemade explosives, and honed a passion for the sport well outside the bounds of grades and corporate dogma. And then he left the sport. Moved into a cabin in the woods with no money, no internet, no car. Six years he spent away from the sport. When he came back he was a new man, centered after years of partying and letting it rip and graduating from college. Years in a cabin with books and wilderness and a library card had allowed him to find himself, hone his beliefs, and set the stage for a new era in his climbing career. Climbing harder than ever and with a gaggle of sponsors, today Hunter splits his time between routesetting, climbing, writing a new Front Range bouldering guidebook, and refining his artwork. And, might I add, telling some wild stories on this very podcast. Have a story or essay you'd like to share on Thundercling? Wanna chat? Come on, we're lonely. Drop us an email at [email protected] or find us @thethundercling on the Gram. We'll get back to you...like I said...we're so lonely. Cheers as always to the effervescent Ryne Doughty for the rad tunes.

So, get this. Chelsea Rude, at the urging of her father, walked into a climbing gym for the first time at age 11. Two weeks later she entered a competition, having never really competed in any sporting event before. She took first place. That, obviously, is an auspicious start to a career in climbing. Chelsea began racking up victories so quickly and steadily that she dove into the JCCA (Junior Competition Climbing Association, formerly the American Sport Climber's Federation, and which shortly became USA Climbing). Soon, she was a full-fledged member of the USA Climbing Team, a distinction she held for an astonishing 13 years. Chelsea paid her dues outdoors, as well, with multiple ascents of 5.14b and V11. She summited the Nose at age 15, sunk axes into ice and glacier, and plugged gear all around the American West. Perhaps the most appealing facet of Chelsea's career, however, is the patience and thoughtfulness she's taken in investigating her chosen path. As age, injury, and tenacity saw Chelsea bow out of comp climbing, she had some big decisions to make. What to choose as a career? How would climbing fit into her adult life? Who is Chelsea Rude, former World Cup competitor and still sponsored Adidas/Five Ten athlete? How could she give back to the sport which has given so much to her? The answer to that is the forthcoming She Sends Collective, Chelsea's brainchild and passion project. The Collective, which kicks into motion this March, will focus on empowering women through coaching (Chelsea has coached the USAC youth team and still holds coaching clinics around the country), as well as an emphasis on nutrition (she suffered through an eating disorder in her competition days) and mental health/therapy. It's an ambitious undertaking. Have a question, pitch, criticism, or bad and unsolicited advice? You can drop us a line at [email protected] or find us on Instagram @thethundercling. Thanks as always to Ryne Doughty for the rad tunes!

Happy holidays, ya grungy cabal of crushers! We're ringing in the New Year with a Sauce Night, which was far overdue. The hot pink Christmas tree is glowing. The conversation is chippy. The Hungarian liqueur is flowing from a mysterious goblet. Slurring, like the flowing sands of time, eventually overtakes another Sauce Night... The regular crew of Travis and Lynn join Fidi and I, tackling another lap around the sun in the climbing-verse. We each present the stories, movies, events, and achievements that most spoke to us over the course of 2019. After the dust settles, we present our favorite holiday movies...although, unfortunately, no fist fights erupt. Crack a tasty beverage and listen along as we chuff our way through a wide-ranging conversation, from the Lander chipping n' chopping controversy to Wolfgang Gullich's, um...formidable...physique. Hope you all had a wonderful holiday celebration and here's a clink of the glasses to a healthy, safe, and chain-clipping New Year! We'll be back in 2020 with a long lists of guests we can't wait to chat up. Have questions, pitches, criticisms, or an expensive present to send? You can drop us a line at [email protected] or find us on Instagram. Is Facebook still a thing? We might be there, as well. Thanks as always to Ryne Doughty for the svelte musical stylings!

Certain people exist in our little world, people who push the buttons and massage the infrastructure and leave fingerprints in every nook. These revolutionaries will never receive recognition from the wider climbing galaxy, let alone the average climber clipping bolts at the local crag. They are the people behind the scenes; providing jobs, building the gyms in which we train, constructing the ballast upon which the sport relies. So, let's talk about Kynan Waggoner. In one of my favorite climbing conversations, podcast or otherwise, Kynan takes us through his history in the sport, dropping our jaws as we begin to understand the reach of the branches he has extended into climbing history. Kynan hung his first shingle in '98, opening X-Treme, a "version 1.0" gym in Florida (out of which sprung such crushers as Matt Segal, Megan Martin, and former guest Cesar Valencia). Who should walk through the doors shortly after opening but a representative from Royal Caribbean Cruise Lines. Fresh off opening a gym he didn't know how to open, Kynan launched a company building climbing walls for cruise lines that he didn't yet know how to build. He eventually made his way to Boulder, yearning for proximity to outdoor climbing. He became a Level 5 routesetter, imagining routes for 10 World Cups. He slid into a USA Climbing coaching position. Eventually, 15 years of industry experience percolating, he took over as CEO of USA Climbing. After righting the ship, he left the organization to take over as COO of Movement Climbing and Fitness. Finally, eager to get back on the front lines, Kynan departed Movement to open his own climbing gym, Gripstone Climbing & Fitness in Colorado Springs. Kynan has built an unparalleled resume in climbing. In this freewheeling and wide-ranging conversation, we touch upon Tony Yaniro's mentorship as a setter, opening an early gym in an aviation hanger in Florida, and the behind the scenes machinations of USA Climbing, from the deal with ESPN to the sport's eventual entrance into the Olympic Games. Sit back and enjoy, my friends. And especially you climbing nerds...this one is for you (us)! Have a question, feedback, suggestion, or pitch? Launch a missive at [email protected] or DM us at @thethundercling on Instagram. We read and respond to every note. And cheers to Ryne Doughty for the groovy noodles. Happy Holidays, gang!

You may not know who Peter Mortimer is, and that's fine by him. You're almost certainly intimate with is filmography, however, an ever-evolving array of groundbreaking films three decades in the making. Peter and his partners Josh Lowell and Nick Rosen (among many others) have collaborated to define the climbing film medium. They have literally delivered more climbing psych than any other humans on the planet. Peter, and his newly minted company Sender Films, launched his career with quirky turn-of-the-century features such as "Scary Faces," "Front Range Freaks," and "Return 2 Sender." Although the films sold out theaters, "King Lines," "Progression," and the "First Ascent" series truly put Sender on the map. Noting the insatiable hunger for new footage and a theater experience, Peter and Josh joined forces to launch the Reel Rock Film Tour. The crew booked around 50 shows that first year. Reel Rock 14 will log 600+ in 2019, spanning the globe. Somehow, amidst the chaos of building a global film tour, Peter found time to direct, produce, and occasionally helm the camera for "Valley Uprising" and "Dawn Wall," films years in the making. His highly anticipated feature following the career of Marc-Andre Leclerc inches toward the finish line, currently in post-production. It's difficult to overstate the influence and impact Peter's films have had on the climbing world. Where we once devoured DVDs of straight climbing porn (I mean, we still do), Sender's movies have raised the bar in unimaginable ways, allowing global tours, Netflix features, and paving the way to mainstream success (and, you know, the random Oscar for his friend Jimmy Chin). We're so grateful we could sneak into Sender HQ for a quick chat. If you haven't seen Reel Rock 14 yet, grab tickets right now. The films are as strong as any lineup in the 14 year history of the tour. Have a question, feedback, suggestion, or pitch? Launch a missive at [email protected] or DM us at @thethundercling on Instagram. We read and respond to every note. And cheers to Ryne Doughty for the great tunes. Reel Rock in Denver actually booked him to perform before each of the four showings at the Oriental Theater! He put on a helluva show. Happy Turkey Day, you heathens!

Minko Nikolov, 31, had lived a pretty charmed life up to a couple months ago. Originally from Bulgaria, Minko discovered rock climbing through his local crags and a powerhouse gym located just minutes from his house. In the early 2000s, as the competition scene lay fairly dormant in the States, Minko launched himself into the Bulgarian circuit. He walked out of his first competition in second-to-last place. Less than a year later, he won the second comp he ever entered. That was just the beginning. Engrossed with competition, Minko steadily improved and regularly won comps all over his home country. In the mid-2000s he left Bulgaria to study in the States, plopping down in Arizona. The American climbing ethos soon washed over him and he was logging more days outside than on plastic. Shortly after graduating from university, Minko made the leap to Colorado, where he became one of the strongest "hobby climbers" (as he puts it) in the state, sending V13 way back in 2008. He found a community and settled into life as a passionate climber while sustaining a good job, a rare feat for a climber of Minko's raw talent. On August 17th, after incoming weather thwarted his solo session in Rocky Mountain National Park, Minko was on his way down the trail, somewhere between Lower Chaos and Emerald Lake. Already below tree line, the lone slice of lightning to hit the ground during the storm struck Minko on his shoulder, missing the crown of his head by inches. 100 million volts threw him to the ground, unconscious. Minko woke up dazed, thinking he may have been shot, smoke rising from his prostrate body. He couldn't move his arm or leg. His shoulder hung dislocated and his jaw was broken. The lightning had torn through his body, severely burning over 30 percent of it, and blew a hole out the side of his foot as it exited. Rain fell on his blood-streaked face as he tried to piece together what had happened, the sudden trauma masking the pain to come. Incredibly, a couple of hikers spotted Minko on the trail and shouted to him that he'd been struck by lightning. Equally miraculous, the hikers stood in a rare pocket of cell service. RMNP Search and Rescue was on the scene within minutes, hauling the now pain-riddled Minko off to a waiting helicopter, the hospital, and an uncertain future. Minko's is a story of survival, perseverance, and calm determination in the face of unthinkable trauma. His narrative, riddled with lessons both apparent and analogous, left us speechless. Have a question, feedback, suggestion, or pitch? Launch a missive at [email protected] or DM us at @thethundercling on Instagram. We read and respond to every note, unless you mention Fidi's Greek accent, in which case he will hunt you down. Cheers to Ryne Doughty for the tunes! He's back in the studio putting together his FIFTH (!) album. We can't wait. Happy Halloween, you Pagan horde!

Boone Speed. I was tempted to stop the intro right there... Boone Speed stands as one of the towering pillars in the climbing pantheon, a small town Utah kid who grew into an athletic and creative powerhouse, contributing more to the sport in half a life than most could in a couple. Let's spend just a moment dissecting his continuing legacy and then get down to business. Obviously, there's the climbing. Boone rocketed out of obscurity in the mid-80's, smack in the middle of the sport climbing revolution, to become the strongest American climber of his generation. He, along with a cadre of counter-culture contemporaries, put places like American Fork, Logan Canyon, Joe's Valley, Ibex, and a host of other areas on the map. He became the first American to climb 5.14b, one of the first ten people on the planet to clip the chains on a 5.14c. He bolted and developed like a madman. He sent like a machine. Let's stroll to a different wing of Boone's legacy. Boone, along with Mike Call and others, basically set the cultural tone for the bouldering wave that swept the nation in the late-90s/early-2000s with the establishment of Pusher, a climbing hold and soft-goods company. Relying on DIY ethics (think Fugazi and Dischord Records) and the imagery of Glen Friedman's and Craig Stecyk's work with the So-Cal skateboarding scene, Pusher's products and especially images came to define the era. Wearing a Pusher shirt was a signifier that you got it, you were in the know, that you were at least tangentially a part of an artistic, passionate, wild movement, whether you lived in the boroughs of New York City or the rolling hills of Wisconsin. Shall we visit the photography wing? As a former Black Diamond photo editor and after massaging Pusher's vibe into existence, Boone went on to travel the world as one of the most sought-after adventure photographers on the planet. He's won a lot of awards. He's captured images emblazoned on the sport's soul. I don't space to list the accolades. Check out the website. Now in his mid-50s, it seems like he's charging forward as hard as ever. The entrepreneurial flame still churning, Boone has set out to re-envision the way we attack training and movement on artificial surfaces by founding his new company, Grasshopper Industries. Involved in every aspect of the company, Grasshopper is shipping the finest adjustable wall systems in the world, allowing climbers to swap the angle of their Moon/Tension/Kilter/system/spray wall to suit their desires. 40 degrees was so yesterday... Listen, it's tough not to look up to Boone as a mentor, as a climber who has blazed his own trail on and off the rock. He's taken chances at every turn, constantly reinventing himself until the idea of Boone Speed is far more complicated than the man himself. In reality, he's just a guy with a furious drive and a deeply earned adoration for our sport. I mean...he's a legend. Have a question, comment, feedback, suggestion? Drop us a line at [email protected]. Thanks, in perpetuity, to Ryne Doughty for the tunes! Have a great fall season, gang. It's Rocktober, baby!

We're all busy. The hustle is real and sneaking climbing into life can be a helluva exercise. Perhaps we need some perspective? Let's take the case of Mack Maier. Mack, after discovering climbing in college, fell down the rabbit hole of infatuation, eventually moving to Salt Lake City. With wanderlust boring down on him, off he went to South Korea to teach English and climb as an "expat for life." While assuming a leadership role with a climbing advocacy group his friend and future business partner launched, the owner of the fledgling Butora climbing shoe company noticed their community stewardship and suggested they move back to the States to launch Butora USA. With no experience in the climbing industry, Mack and his two partners got to work building the Butora brand from the ground up. Mack slid into the ownership role of Butora USA, along with Director of Product Development (he'd never done that, either). Months on the road, meeting people in climbing gym parking lots. Visiting nearly 80% of the gyms in the nation. Hosting Butora demos almost every night -- somewhere -- for over a year. And Butora, unlike most young climbing shoe brands, was born ready to sprint. Do you remember? One day you'd never heard of Butora and the next all kinds of climbers were mysteriously wearing this shoe called the Acro? Crazy. And then there's the distribution company that Mack and his partners started, HMH Outdoors. Butora, Maxim Ropes, 8BPLUS, all distributed under the HMH umbrella. But listen, that's not nearly enough for a guy like Mack. He and his partners, living in the gym-free Longmont, CO -- a pretty decent jaunt from Boulder and the closest climbing gym -- decided to launch a bouldering gym. Fighting through the daunting real estate insanity of Boulder County, they eventually found a 15,000 sq ft location and christened the Longmont Climbing Collective. The LCC features beautiful parquet walls, the first ever Kilter board, some of the first Adjustable Training Platform walls in the nation, and an old school vibe that elevates community over all else. Mack's is a story of vision, relentless passion, and the willingness to shove 90 hour work weeks down your throat until the job is done. Maybe...just maybe...we aren't all that busy, after all. Have a question, suggestion, or article pitch? Wanna know how Fidi became an international sex symbol? Drop us a line at [email protected] or shoot us a message @thethundercling on Instagram. Thanks as always to Ryne Doughty for being such a bad-ass troubadour! Thanks to you, too, for giving us a listen. We're thankful to clip your proverbial anchors every episode! That's weird...

Some folks sip life, swirling it around the palate, nodding contemplatively and slowly shuttering their eyes. Others punch a key through the bottom of the can and shotgun that shit while ropeless and reckless above a churning sea, howling to whichever gods they've buttonholed in their sights. I'll let you guess which type of fellow Dakota Walz is. Dakota, hailing from Denver via the plains of North Dakota, has steadily built a climbing resume that demands attention when it comes from a flatlander. This year alone, he's creeping up on a linear mile of first ascents from Utah to Colorado. This from a guy who launched his climbing career on the urban landscape of Fargo and Kansas City, actually penning a buildering guide to the latter. Most intriguingly, Dakota is on the precipice of releasing his first book (slated for October), Everything I Loved More. Compiled into seven distinct but loosely tethered vignettes, EILM chronicles his time as a steel tramp, a consequences be damned free-soloist, and hitchhiking vagabond. Underlying his tight and honest prose, Dakota makes clear that his reckless youthful adventures stemmed from a battle with mental illness and depression, a fight he continues to wage with a bit less mortal danger and a whole lot more wisdom. It's a furious and passionate read, and as Matt Samet writes in Climbing Magazine, "As an integral work of art, Everything I Loved More truly is a thing of beauty, and it was a pleasure to read, especially as the narrative circles back on itself to reach an emotionally satisfying conclusion." Dakota takes Fidi and I on a journey through some of the adventures so dazzlingly recounted in EILM, as well as the process of publishing his first book, his first ascents dotted across the American West, and the underlying emotional distress that fueled his wanderlust for so much of his young life. It's a helluva ride. Have a question, concern, pitch, or criticism? Drop us a line at [email protected]. Toss us a DM on Instagram @thethundercling. We read and respond to every note we receive. Thank you, as always, to Ryne Doughty for the hawt jams!

Josylnn Corredor has been running towards challenges all of her life. Encountering, conquering, running, repeat. After a starring role in high school, Jos launched into a Division I track and field career at the crushingly competitive Oregon State University. With her collegiate spikes hung up, however, she found herself casting about to fill the void that organized sports had so easily filled. Like you, like me, like almost all of us...she found rock climbing. You know the rest of that story. Jos, an Exercise Sports Science major, dug into the science and culture of strength and conditioning training, eventually attaching the following certifications to her name, capitalized letters which apparently mean she's a bad ass: CSCS, USAW 1, ACE CPT, KIEP. After a number of internships and a load of climbing trips and stacked hours at the crags, she launched her own training company, Body En Route (new website launches in September). Aside from her professional credentials, Jos is one of the kindest and most genuine people you will ever hope to call a friend, mentor, or coach. It's an attitude born of perseverance through mortal exigency. She's hurdled life-altering obstacles, including scathing coaching, anemia, and a heroic battle with breast cancer. Although we strangely didn't land on the topic, do yourself a favor and listen to episode 106 of the Power Company Podcast, where she and host Kris Hampton take a deep dive into the grave struggle that saw Jos forced into not only mind-boggling choices, but eventually saw her coming out the other side stronger, more self-assured, and more determined than ever. Buckle up for a ride into the mind of a strength and conditioning trainer just entering her prime. I promise, she won't yell at you if you skip your abs for a week. Have a question, concern, pitch, or criticism? Drop us a line at [email protected]. Toss us a DM on Instagram @thethundercling. We read and respond to every note we receive. Thank you, as always, to Ryne Doughty for the musical joy.

The winding paths we take to climbing is a story we all share, yet each journey unspools in such bizarre, unique chaos. Bruce Zou grew up in rural China, riding buffaloes in lieu of cars, climbing bamboo in the forest, and not standing too close to a television for fear he'd get zapped into the odd device and therein be trapped forever. An ambitious student, he eventually left China for Boulder, CO to pursue a PhD in mechanical engineering. His first day in the Bubble he laced up a pair of shoes and hit the rec center climbing gym. Five years later he stood atop his first V14. Fear of deportation and a rigorous academic program left little time to dilly dally in the boulder fields. Instead of solidifying each grade, he hopscotched his way to an elite level in a furious charge, becoming the strongest Chinese boulderer on the planet. Cesar Valencia was living the life in Miami; spiked hair, fast cars, skateboarding videos. Also pursuing a degree in mechanical engineering, Cesar discovered climbing in the same gym that spit out Matt Segal, quickly falling into an addiction that consumed his studies. He skipped school to climb and watched King Lines during class. You know the end of this story. A few years later Cesar found himself in Boulder, punting his studies to the curb after three and a half years in the program, a freshly minted Friction Labs athlete and manager of the Kinetik climbing team. And then he met Bruce, locking off to his nipples on V0 slabs, wondering what this shirtless weirdo in the silver chain was up to. A short time later Bruce was flashing Cesar’s long-term projects, the grasshopper become master. A beautiful and hilarious friendship emerged, Bruce the unlikely star of Cesar’s wildly popular YouTube page. This one is a doozy. I’ve never laughed so hard during an episode. Although the conversation winds in and out of Bruce and Cesar’s stories, stick around to the end. Bruce, this guy who discovered a climbing dynamo slumbering in his own shadow, eventually sums up the puzzling tractor beam of climbing with such earnest lucidity that Fidi and I walked away astonished at his insight, passion, and pure joy. Have a question, concern, pitch, or criticism? Drop us a line at [email protected]. Toss us a DM on Instagram @thethundercling. We read and respond to every note we receive. Thank you, as always, to Ryne Doughty for the sweet musical stylings.

Paul Robinson has stood at the vanguard of difficult bouldering for years, one of the crop of young beasts to rise to international recognition in the wake of Dave Graham's and Chris Sharma's emergence. Along with climbing a score of V15s, Paul has sought out first ascents on almost every continent, starred in some of the finest climbing films ever made, and most importantly carried himself with humor, creativity, and dignity along the way. Jeremy Fullerton needs no introduction. Literally. He sat in the Thundercling studio for episode 8. If you haven't listened to that...what are you waiting for? Paul and Jeremy joined us for a wide-ranging conversation covering everything from Paul's discovery of climbing as a grommet in New Jersey to why he and Jeremy decided to use a Toys R Us chainsaw to remove timber while building Paul's new house. Paul also digs into media creation, his competitive nature, his bonkers rise as one of the strongest boulderers in the world, and the speculative nature of grading the most difficult rigs on the planet. Finally, for the first time in public, he digs into the controversy surrounding his epic 2010 ascent of the American classic Lucid Dreaming (V15) in the Buttermilks, Bishop, CA. What does it feel like to wake up and realize you might be the strongest boulderer in the world, on that day and in that moment? How do you defend yourself against naysayers after FA'ing one of the most difficult rigs on the planet, with an unimpeachable resume but lacking the "uncut footy" as proof? And what becomes of a climbing culture when our strongest and most admired climbers are lambasted and threatened simply because they didn't get around to setting up a camera to document a send for their sponsors, a film, the consumer, whomever? Paul and Jeremy, like Dante and Virgil, escort us through the inside world of professional climbing, from the goofiest beginnings to the horror of public humiliation to finally owning one's own past and future and taking the reigns for good. It's a helluva tour. Have a question, suggestion, feedback or a good joke? Wanna know what kind of shampoo products Fidi uses to treat that illustrious mane? Drop us a line at [email protected]. We read and respond to every missive. Thanks as always to Ryne Doughty for the dope tunes! Our musical inspiration just took a tumble from a ladder and broke his jaw...and is still playing shows. Heal up, you monster! And, as always, thanks for giving us a listen. We appreciate it beyond words.

Defending Game Night champ Lynn returns to battle for her crown in another round of Geo Party and a much-maligned lightning spin through the Thunder Quiz. Travis, returning to Sauce Night for a cool trifecta, hoping to stop Lynn in her tracks, suffers from a bad case of the grumps. Fidi, resolute and robed in his combat spats, cracks his knuckles in hopes of bringing glory to a Thundercling host. As alpine season has dawned in Colorado, the gang also chats about alpine ethics. Specifically, who in the hell stashes bouldering pads in 2019? Without a doubt, pads remain at altitude, causing marmots to get upset bellies and chewed foam to spin about our pristine climbing areas like so much wretched confetti. Travis wants to confront the buggers with vitriol. Lynn and Fidi preach peaceful and equitable confrontation. I simply think it's bonkers that people somehow justify breaking the Leave No Trace ethic just to send V13. Join us as we slaughter a game in a drunken haze, one of us affixes two pieces of bread to his head (and then Fidi devours them), we celebrate our friend Todd, and a couple of us disrobe in frustration as calls for pity rain down at Thundercling HQ. I mean...it's a mess. We have a stellar lineup on the slate -- including an appearance by Paul Robinson -- but we'd love to hear what you thought of game night! Want to pen an essay for Thundercling? Have an idea for the next Sauce Night? Get a hold of us anytime at [email protected]. We read and respond to every email we receive. And, from the bottom of our little hearts, thank you so much for the continued support. Cheers once again to Ryne Doughty for the svelte musical stylings.

This is a special episode over here at Thundercling HQ. About a year ago we hatched the idea to cobble together some sort of climbing podcast, heavy on character and story, light on what grades you climb and how sick your crew is. We hadn't the slightest notion of how to conduct a podcast, let alone launch one. Although we'd cultivated some connections, we had no idea with whom to launch the inaugural episode. We needed a guinea pig to test it out on. We needed a Patient Zero. Enter Tyler Williams. Tyler, a talented and charismatic climbing coach and routesetter, walked into the madness and made us rookies feel right at home; comfortable and confident. His inspirational and relentlessly positive attitude towards climbing left no mystery as to how he's vaulted from summer camp counselor to youth coach to head coach, from California to Minnesota. Tyler has left podium finishers, a new generation of climbing stewards, and a swath of motivated youth in his wake. After a youth coach internship -- of sorts -- at Movement Climbing and Fitness in Denver, Tyler headed back home to Minnesota, where he assumed head coaching duties at the gorgeous and expansive Minneapolis Bouldering Project. They should feel grateful to have landed such a committed, insightful, and passionate advocate for youth climbing and how they will carry our sport into an uncertain future. Thanks for listening, gang, over the last year. Thanks for giving us an opportunity and platform to share some amazing stories from climbers who inspire, make us shoot snot from laughter, and educate us all on the issues that drive our weird little tribe. And thanks to Tyler for walking into a bizarro podcast laboratory, especially since we were all naked... Cheers, as always, to Ryne Doughty for the bad-ass tunes. Have a question, concern, pitch, or criticism? Drop us a line at [email protected]. Toss us a DM on Instagram @thethundercling. We read and respond to every note we receive.

Chris Winter, the Executive Director for the Access Fund, has 99 problems but finding a solution ain't one. Chris, along with his tireless staff spread across the country, is forging a bold path forward for the Access Fund, tackling the issues attendant with climbing's massive explosion in popularity. Overcrowding, crag erosion, social trails, an often challenging federal political machine, human waste polka-dotting the crags, and the general ecological impact of millions of new climbers are just some of the issues gnawing at the iconoclastic, freewheeling ethos that climbing once held so dear to it's chest. As a million recent articles online and in the mags (most recent Climbing magazine issue) have highlighted, our dear sport is at a tipping point of sorts, a cliff edge none of us want to rappel from. Luckily, we have an army of capable advocates in the Access Fund (and hundreds of brilliant grassroots climbing organizations), fighting to maintain our land rights and at least a modicum of the freedom most of us uncoil our ropes in search of. Today, however, after Academy Awards, social media saturation, front page stories in The New York Times, and the gym-to-crag phenomenon, Chris and his team are dealing with issues that previous advocates fidgeted over hypothetically. Chris generously invited us to the Access Fund headquarters to chat about some of the issues unspooling at hyper-speed at nearly every short-approach crag in the country, especially locales hit hard like the Red River Gorge, Indian Creek, Red Rocks, Bishop, and countless others. Rather than hunting for a target to blame, however, Chris is focused on resolving the issues of overcrowding and Leave No Trace education, a daunting quandary. Together, Chris proffers, by supporting our local climbing orgs and the Access Fund -- and offering ourselves as stewards and examples at the crag -- the tipping point that climbing is rapidly approaching can mutate from a desperate collapse of crag integrity to a huge success story. We are the foot soldiers. And it's time to get to work. It's time to flip the script. Thank you, as always, to Ryne Doughty for the musical stylings. Have a question, concern, pitch, or criticism? Drop us a line at [email protected]. Toss us a DM on Instagram @thethundercling. We read and respond to every note we receive.

Tony Yaniro came of age as the Stonemasters were just solidifying their legendary status in the mid ’70s. In the shadows, however, climbers like Tony, Randy Leavitt, Max Jones and Mark Hudon, Ray Jardine, and a host of others were starting to shed the crotchety ethics of the day and pushing the sport in a new, gymnastic, era-defining direction. Tony and the gang hung on ropes to work out moves, bolted lines at a level previously unimagined, and developed a super-divisive style of sending. Today, we’d scoff at grumpy old coots slagging us for simply redpointing! Tony was the first person to climb at the .13b/c level, but redpointing and hangdogging weren’t the only arrows in his quiver. He developed his own training regimens on what he called “death machines,” homemade climbing holds affixed to walls, and route-specific workouts away from the crag. Today we beat ourselves into submission twice a week at the local gym. In the 1970s, it made Tony a revolutionary. He was one of the first and finest hold shapers on the planet. He’s a routesetter and trainer. He’s designed gyms and now owns his own facility in Prescott, Arizona. He’s stood at the vanguard of so many groundbreaking moments in climbing history that it’s hard to fathom how he isn’t the most pompous asshole in the industry. But he’s not. He’s humble and kind and hell-bent on sharing his knowledge with the wider climbing world. Fidi and I had the rare honor to sit down with Tony and rue the fact we could only steal an hour of his time. We could have listened for days… Thanks also to Dennis Taylor, one of Tony’s employees, for jumping into the shark tank and joining us on the podcast at the last minute. Have a question, comment, concern? Wanna write for Thundercling or have a great guest idea? Get ahold of us at [email protected] or on Instagram @thethundercling. We respond to every missive we get. Finally, thanks to the old stalwart Ryne Doughty for the reliably rad tunes.

Brendan Leonard has this incredible knack for making you feel like you could do just about anything you set your mind to, while simultaneously filling you with existential dread that you'll never realize your full potential. How can that be? Because fulfilling potential, doing incredible things, all of it -- it's hard as shit. And he's the most distilled reflection of gritty, gumption-seeping grinding I can conjure. Brendan's made a career out of setting his jaw and getting down to the work, week after week, year after year. In 2011, struggling to build a steady adventure writing career, he launched Semi-Rad.com, a celebration of outdoor life -- by, for, and about the average athlete and adventurer. All these years later, never missing a week without at least one entirely free and generally great essay, Semi-Rad retains a loyal fanbase. Brendan leveraged this success into a number of writing gigs, from Contributing Editor at Climbing Magazine to his first memoir to award winning filmmaker. He's currently a Contributing Editor at the Adventure Journal and columnist for Outside Magazine. He's written eight books with a ninth on the way. He's only 40-years-old, for god's sake... After witnessing and aiding in a rescue on Castleton Tower, Brendan took a break from climbing and decided, you know, to start ultrarunning. As one does. His most recent film, "How To Run 100 Miles," solidified his directorial chops with millions of views on YouTube and a Staff Pick selection on Vimeo. Just so you understand: He's writing full-time (books, essays, articles), directing short films, regularly logging 26-mile days, teaching writing workshops, and probably a dozen other things he's secretly fomenting in the raging creative torrent that serves as his brain. Sit down, pour a cup of coffee, and enjoy listening to one of the finest storytellers working today. And keep a pen and paper handy. Not only does Brendan offer some insight into making one's way as a creative in the outdoor industry, but he also drops a couple bushels of movie, podcast, book, and music recommendations along the way. Want to write for Thundercling? Have a recommendation, comment, or criticism? Shoot us an email at [email protected]. We read and respond to every email. AND REMEMBER THE TEE SHIRT CONTEST! As always, thanks to Ryne Doughty for the sound nuggets in our brain parts!

It's game night at the Thundercling dinner table! Dave takes Fidi and return Sauce Night veterans, Lynn and Travis, through a couple of arduous trivia combat tours, the gang trying to hold it together after a few too many beers. First, Fidi hopes to take the lead in a lightning round of the Thunder Quiz. The contestants get 80 seconds to answer climbing trivia questions; some topical, some historical, and some embarrassingly personal. Dave is accused of nepotism, Fidi flexes a bit of muscle, and Travis begrudgingly surrenders ground. Between games the table erupts in some role playing of "climber wrongs." Spray, crowded crags, mansplaining, and wild crag dogs speed up the boozing and ratchet up the vitriol. It's what we wish we could say... Next, Travis and Lynn eye a rebound in a full round of Geo Party (we're not supposed to type "Jeopardy," for copyright reasons). The categories, "Oopsy Daisy...Chain," "Sharma Dharma," and "Holy Shit," bring some interesting answers and a couple of ridiculous stories. Travis comes out of the gate strong, Fidi shows some serious focus, and Lynn launches an improbable comeback. Thanks for listening to this curse-laden, booze-soaked, climbing ephemera-infused monstrosity! Maybe next time we'll skip the beer...but I doubt it. Although we'll have regularly scheduled programming up for the next couple months, tell us what you thought of game night! Want to pen an essay for Thundercling? Have an idea for the next Sauce Night? Get a hold of us anytime at [email protected]. We read and respond to every email we receive. Thanks as always to Ryne Doughty for the bad ass tunes. Finally, cheers to Chris Weidner, from whom I mined some questions here.

The team in repose, Emmett squatting on the left and Maureen standing in the center. Maybe you've seen the award-winning film, Stumped, which introduced much of the world to adaptive climber Maureen Beck. Maybe you know that her trophy room includes numerous national titles and world championships. Perchance you've heard that National Geographic named Mo this year's incredibly prestigious Adventurer of the Year. You probably know that she's accomplished this all while being born without a left hand. You might not know that she chairs USA Climbing's Paraclimbing Committee or that she works diligently with Paradox Sports and the Front Range Adaptive Climbers Club. She was also responsible for the petition which tore across social media a couple weeks ago, responding to the IFSC decision to split the para- and able-bodied World Championships. Let me also notify you that, when properly motivated, she can drink whiskey like a cross-eyed sailor on leave. She'd hate me writing this, but Mo is a fighter and a hero for our sport and it's wide-breadth of athletes. She'd be okay with me telling you that she once punched a little boy in the nether-regions with a robot hand (she was also a little girl; I'm fairly certain she no longer punches boys in the junk). Emmett Cookson ran a winding road from Division I college cross country to the world of competition climbing and coaching. After cutting his teeth with Justin Sjong, Emmett began coaching Mo and was eventually named USAC's Paraclimbing Head Coach. Although he still doesn't know how to take a compliment, Emmett is one of the finest young coaches in the United States, expertly co-mingling pummeling workouts and good-natured ribbing with a stolid belief that his athletes can achieve far more than they imagine. He doesn't like it when Mo eats cupcakes. He's not sure she should pound beers with a paraclimbing team that sometimes resembles Animal House more than a squad of elite adaptive climbers. Luckily, he knows when to leave the room when a post-competition round of "tequila pong" cranks on late into the night. He'll be ready for the bleary-eyed champs in the morning... It was a unique honor and pleasure for Fidi and I to sit down with these two. I believe the young folks call the following episode a "banger." Enjoy. Thank you, as always, to Ryne Doughty for the musical stylings. Have a question, concern, pitch, or criticism? Drop us a line at [email protected]. Toss us a DM on Instagram @thethundercling. We read and respond to every note we receive.

Photo by Lane Mathis. Rob "Piz" Pizem, 42, is a man in perpetual motion. Along with raising two sons with his wife, Jane, Piz teaches high school science to at-risk youth, logs hours as the head trainer at his local gym in Grand Junction, CO, and carves out time away from his family to put up some of the most ascetic first ascents on terra firma. Between driving the kids to baseball practice, spending time with his wife, developing curriculum for his students, and designing climbing regiments for his clients, Piz finds about three hours a week to train himself, somehow maintaining the fitness necessary to nab the first free ascent of routes like Thunderbird, a remote 2000 ft, 16 pitch .13a R in Zion National Park. Hard chargers can rub some folks the wrong way and Piz is no exception. His life is so bisected, investigated, and massaged to fit esoteric timetables that he has nary a moment to spare on folks who get in the way. Indeed, he maintains a list of possible climbing partners, over-stokers who know how to rise early, work hard, and suffer alongside him in sometimes unquantifiable doses. Buttercup, did you hit snooze? You're off the list. Forever. There's no faking this kind of dedication. As with climbing, he lives his life with purpose. He teaches because he wants to give back to society. He puts up new routes in wild locales because he feeds off the experience, from the pre-sunrise drives to the last bolt hand-drilled at the final belay. He walks away from epic FAs because he knows he can't justify the time away from his family. He's the real deal in a world of social media curation, a rare bird indeed. Thank you, as always, to Ryne Doughty for the tunes. Have a question, concern, pitch, or criticism? Drop us a line at [email protected]. Toss us a DM on Instagram @thethundercling. We read and respond to every note we receive.

William Penner Owen Summerscales The bouldering in Roy, New Mexico features some of the finest winter sandstone climbing that the United States has to offer, a fact highlighted by a massive influx of visiting climbers since 2016, when the New Mexico Bouldering guidebook hit the stands. It wasn't so long ago, however, that Roy was a loosely guarded secret that few knew about. For most of us, around 2015 or so, Roy simply did not exist. And then, one day, it did. What happens when a bouldering area explodes into climbing consciousness on the coat tails of social media posts, magazine articles, and a coal-chugging hype train? How do land managers and stewards race to patch together a conservation infrastructure after the gold rush and steadily increasing popularity? Who is responsible for...any or all of it? William Penner, 48, is a good person to ask. William was the first climber to stumble upon the massive swath of boulders tucked onto the Kiowa National Grasslands. He launched the development of Roy, with a handful of others in tow. Owen Summerscales, 38, joining the crew a bit later, eventually drew up the first bouldering guide to the seemingly endless bouldering potential of New Mexico, including Roy. William and Owen joined us for a candid discussion of the discovery, development, and eventual popularity of Roy. Owen, however, has publicly stated that there will be no second printing/edition of the guidebook (currently sold out) until the Forest Service, land managers, Access Fund, and climbers can come to some sort of solution to the growing issues affecting Roy, from building more campgrounds to installing Wag Bag stations to improving some of the washed out dirt roads. This is a fascinating look at a bouldering area -- in real time -- going through growing pains at lighting speed in the social media era. Let's pop the hood and talk about Roy, a climbing destination so massive, so stocked with potential, that protecting the access, the environment, and the myriad private/state/federal lands is the only way to definitively assure a successful future for climbers. Thank you, as always, to Ryne Doughty for the bangers. Have a question, concern, pitch, or criticism? Drop us a line at [email protected]. We read and respond to every note we receive.

Besides a dog with a head like a bowling ball slobbering all over you, the first thing you notice when you walk into Dave Wahl's house is the copious amount of training and sports science books scattered about his kitchen and living room. Beyond being one of the preeminent climbing coaches and trainers working in the States today, Dave is a student of athletic movement and efficiency. Dave's been refining his coaching/training process since his early days working with Rob Pizem, before Piz was "Piz." He's lent his vast knowledge to climbing luminaries such as Daniel Woods, Chelsea Rude, Piz, Madeleine Sorkin, Mercedes Pollmeier, and a thousand other rock fondlers flashing your projects. Dave invited us into his Denver home to chat about his coaching philosophy, why a strong core may not be your limiting factor, how to mitigate persistent injuries like tendonitis and tendinosis, and why he thinks Chris Sharma is the finest raw talent to ever rope up...but Adam Ondra is the best climber in the world. Grab a Snickers bar (don't do that), do a thousand crunches (totally unnecessary), cycle through a couple laps on the campus board without warming up (strongly advise against), and let Dave take you on a journey to training enlightenment! Have a question, suggestion, pitch, or criticism? Drop us a line at [email protected]. We respond to every note we receive. Thanks to Ryne Doughty, as always, for the harmonious jams! Thanks for listening, gang. We'll be back in two weeks to assault and harass your ear holes!

Pro climber Jeremy Fullerton, 28, ain't no trust-funder. Although he spends the majority of his waking minutes either climbing or shuffling his schedule to get to the crag, he's not riding the wake of mom's expenditure account. Instead, he plugs hours at Fed Ex, freelances as an auto mechanic, landscapes, walks dogs...he relentlessly hunts a way to fund his own path, whether it be paying rent in Boulder or hopping a flight to South Africa. Not every pro climber is so forthcoming, especially in this era of massaged Vimeo clips and desperately curated social media. It's rare for a professional athlete of any stripe to place authenticity above adoration. Jeremy, however, gave it all up for climbing, at this moment, at this point in his life. Sure, he wants kids, he wants a family, he wants a career. Right now? He wants to crush the gnar with good friends in the most beautiful mountainscapes he can find. Jeremy sat down with Fidi and I to chat about the hustle of the pro climber, the authenticity with which he tries to weave his way through life, and how following your dreams is hard work that pays well. He also lets slip that he almost died on a boogie board. Twice. Seems like moving to the mountains was a good choice... Have a question, suggestion, pitch, or criticism? Drop us a line at [email protected]. We respond to every note we receive. Thanks to Ryne Doughty, as always, for the harmonious jams! Cheers and thanks for listening to the Thunder Pod. Climb with vigor and authenticity! PS -- We love the Enormocast. And The Bad Beta Podcast. And The Power Company Climbing Podcast. And The Dirtbag Diaries, The Firn Line, The Run Out, and on and on and on. Listen to them!

Noted climber, writer, and cat whisperer, Matt Samet. Just another day in the Climbing offices for Kevin Corregan. Matt Samet is a sort of Renaissance Man. Top shelf climber and first-ascensionist, one of the best writers in the biz, Editor-in-Chief at Climbing Magazine, author, dad and husband, sweat pants aficionado, and cat lover. Seriously. He really likes cats. Kevin Corrigan jumped on board with Climbing Magazine around 2014, as Digital Editor, after sending a cold resume to Boulder while still living and working in New York City. He successfully penned pieces for the Onion and College Humor before discovering climbing and deciding that being dirty, unkempt, and always just a little bit weaker than that other dude at the gym was way better than hustling a living for the sit-com crowd. He's a masterful comedic mind and a passionate rock scrambler. Fidi and I sat down with these two thoughtful fellas at Matt's kitchen table, amongst a galaxy of his boys' toys and a 14-year-old dog, Clyde, who really needed to take a dump. Well, we got the interview. And good boy Clyde took a sizable grumpy in the back yard. Another successful Thundercling conversation! Now, we get into the weeds on this one, diving deep into the publishing industry. Can climbing magazines survive a reshuffling of the media power structure? What is it like to breathe life into each issue, from soup to nuts? What was behind the massive changes Climbing Magazine chugged through over the last decade? And, of course, which of Sharma's hairstyles spark the most joy in each of us? Have a question, suggestion, or article pitch? Wanna know who would win a slap-fight between Fidi and I? Drop us a line at [email protected]. Thanks as always to Ryne Doughty for crushing the tunes! Thanks to you, too, for giving us a listen! We love you...

Photo provided by J. Kehl, taken by the eminently talented Dawn Kish. Jason Kehl, one of the most iconic climbers to ever latch on a chalk bag, really has nothing left to prove. At 42, he's left a tidal wave of accomplishments behind him, all on his own terms and without the girders of convention or covenance. Jason helped kick off the highball revolution with his first ascent of the Buttermilk stunner Evilution (V12), in 2002. Straight Outta Squampton (5.13+, first bouldering ascent), The Fly (first ever 5.14d solo), and a bevy of blood-curdling gems soon followed. His first ascents in Hueco Tanks, TX are the stuff of legend. He's probably brushing some bonkers highball as you're reading this. He's also downloaded the 36 hour day. Really, there's no other explanation. On top of wandering Hueco's massive potential, Jason is one of the finest hold shapers on the planet. He designs mega-gym walls across the United States, including the nation's largest in Englewood, CO. He's an accomplished artist, photographer, videographer, route setter. He's recently married. He and his wife, Martina, are new parents to little Eva Luna. Oh yeah, he's writing the new guidebook to Hueco, too. Seriously. On top of that, he's one of the nicest guys in climbing. I know. I hate him, too. Check out one of my favorite interviews with Jason here. And you gotta dig on his classic trampoline first ascent here. Get a hold of us anytime at [email protected]. We read and respond to every email we receive. Thanks as always to the Ryne Doughty for the rad tunes. Have a thoughtful and wonderful Martin Luther King Jr. Day!

I was living in South Korea, teaching English during the weekdays and feverishly putting up FAs with a tight crew of expats during the weekends, when I first saw Sender Film's Pilgrimage. The film follows Chris Sharma, Katie Brown, and Nate Gold as they peruse the granite eggs dotting acre upon acre in Hampi, India. Sipping my Hite beer at night, I would watch it on repeat, mouth agape, heart quickening, annoying my non-climber roomie in some shithole apartment in an industrial enclave of Incheon. Dreams of climbing in Hampi finally gave way to planning. After a bit of salesmanship, I'd gathered a crew of six for a month-long foray into the land of the Vijyanagara Empire. Outside of shattering my tibia with five days to go, Hampi gave us adventure in spades, from leaping over king cobras to death highballs to the slow, colorful river life on the banks of the Tungabhadra. Pilgrimage made all of this possible. Ignoring the dangers of hyperbole, Pilgrimage changed all of our lives. Thundercling's first Sauce Night crashes into your ears as an homage to the dreams and aspirations we cull from climbing vids, from the rough and tumble Free Hueco to the finely-crafted character sketches of Free Solo and The Dawn Wall. We abuse our climbing movies. We steal beta. We foment dreams. West Coast Pimp sent me to Bishop, CA for the first time in 2001. Reel Rock hosting duties for the immaculate Valley Uprising demanded my first trip to Yosemite (where I broke another leg -- YAY!). Climbing movies are vessels into which we tuck our dreams and set them a sail into the barely known. For many of us, they are the pyres upon which our ambitions burn. Lynn and Travis, 30 years of climbing and movie drooling between them, join Fidi and I for this round-table on climbing movies, which vids cut the deepest, and an investigation into how to destroy our livers during a single one-hour podcast segment. Crack a libation and enjoy our inaugural Sauce Night! Have some bones to pick with our movie selections? Want to pen an essay for Thundercling? Have an idea for the next Sauce Night? Get a hold of us anytime at [email protected]! We read and respond to every email we receive. Thanks as always to the lovely Ryne Doughty for the crusher tunes.

Emily Harrington joins Chris and Brian for the 2016 USA Bouldering Nationals, where they filled a mind-bending 14+ hours of time behind the mics. Brian Runnells and Chris Weidner have been climbing for a long time. They've also been writing about climbing for a long time. Before his identity was finally sleuthed out, Brian was the one-man aggregating super-bot behind the website Climbing Narc. In a torturous twist, you can still visit the page, where the last post logged falls in April of 2015, reading, "Yes, I'm still alive..." In it's heyday, Climbing Narc rallied a massive following and was, at times, the most popular climbing website in the United States. Chris makes his living writing about climbing, no small feat. He's written for most of the major mags, all while logging a climbing-specific column for Boulder's The Daily Camera for 11 years. He and Jason Haas are just wrapping up Weidner's first guidebook effort for Boulder Canyon. In an interesting twist, the commentary "booth" brought the two of them together for Louder Than Eleven's broadcast of the 2015 Psicobloc competition. Like Madden and Summerall, they've worked together ever since. We talk about the experience of commentating for a sport like climbing and how the two of them got into the gig in the first place. We also chat about the famous blooper reels, any chances they'll be commentating for the upcoming Olympics, and how Brian finally contextualized the phrase, "Netflix and chill." Check out a blooper (or highlight??) reel here. Check out a 2014 Thundercling interview with the Narc here. Questions, comments, queries to write for Thundercling or join as a guest? Drop us a line at [email protected]. As always, thanks to Ryne Doughty for the rad tunes! Happy holidays, gang. Be safe, love hard, have fun! We'll see you all in 2019!!

Whitney Pesek was 13 years old when she noticed her vision mysteriously turning blurry, sharp edges becoming soft. After a battery of tests she was diagnosed with macular degeneration, a condition that causes loss in the center of the field of vision. Despite her accelerating condition, a malady which she rarely discussed with others, Whitney discovered climbing and fell down the rabbit hole of obsession. After years of roping up and cruising boulderfields, she discovered a community of adaptive climbers she had been entirely oblivious to. A couple months later she stood atop the podium at USA Nationals. Shortly thereafter she and her caller, fiance Sean Spring, were walking the streets of the legendary Innsbruck, Austria for the 2018 World Championships. By the time they boarded the plane for home, Whitney had both a silver medal draped around her neck and a new community of support, psyche, and passion. Buckle up for this one. Whitney's is a story of humble perseverance, discovery, and a testament to how climbing can augment a stubborn drive to continue doing what you love against all odds. Thanks again to Ryne Doughty for the lovely tunes.

Ryan Sewell causing pain to geologic formations. Photo by our own Fidi!   Ryan Sewell, Denver via Texas, has been constructing the building blocks of a sustainable career in climbing since his early teenage years. Youth World Cup competitions, scrubbing holds in dingy gyms, ascending to a world-class outdoor status (V14/.14d), and finally wrestling with the notion of going pro or finding another route for a career in the industry. He eschewed the jet-setting hustle of becoming a professional climber and settled into a career as a route-setter and innovative thinker in the world of plastic. He's now heading an elite crew of setters for Movement Climbing + Fitness in Denver/Boulder, as well as cobbling together a strategy to move our sport sustainably and responsibly into the future. Ryan is one of those guys who is so sharp that his rejoinders cause you to think about everything you say, kind of spinning the Rubik's Cube to find the perfect thing before you present him an argument, comment, or offhand witticism. Every move thoughtful and deliberate, Ryan tackles life's hurdles with grace and preparation. It's a hard-earned wisdom. This mindset unequivocally came in handy when he faced a life-threatening disease in the middle of the last decade. With the grim reaper tickling his toes, Ryan summoned a miracle out of pure will. This is an episode for the truly addicted climber, who spends time in the gym, spends time outdoors, spends time thinking about how our sport will surely continue to evolve, for better or worse. Ryan is the perfect guide to unpack the various hiccups our beloved sport will almost assuredly encounter as it continues to devour the American zeitgeist. Check out a new piece on Ryan from Rock & Ice here. Thanks again to Ryne Doughty for the rad music! Have a great Thanksgiving, everyone!

The top of Ariana after their first trip up the Diamond. "We didn’t send. Nina went back and fired it a week or so later. I did Turning Point the night after we talked," according to James. Episode one, touch down. On Thunderpod's inaugural episode, we speak with Nina Williams and James Lucas, Fidi and I in a living room in Denver, Nina and James sharing a couch in Boulder. It's pretty romantic. Nina and James charted entirely different trajectories through the climbing world. James lived out of a broke down Saturn wagon for about 200 years, cutting his teeth and putting up new routes in Yosemite. Nina came up through the comp scene but soon broke out on her own, ticking off some of the scariest, hardest highball boulder problems in the nation. But, as you'll hear, transition is the name of the game for this duo. James blew up the Saturn with a detonator and sixteen sticks of dynamite and slid behind the desk at Climbing Magazine. He has a toilet. He has a closet. He no longer must pee into a Gatorade bottle. And he's one of the most interesting and engaging climbing writers scribbling for coin. He's also allowed his rack to take a back seat to a crashpad, recently spending a ton of time honing his skills as a boulderer. Nina, hunting for something meaningful and sustaining, headed back to school. She also pumped the brakes on those sweat-inducing, leg-snapping, possibly career ending highballs in favor of allowing her intuition to guide her through the climbing universe. She's picking up a trad rack more often, becoming more intimate with the national climbing community, and basically blossoming into one of the most impressive and thoughtful ambassadors that our sport has. We talk about all that good stuff and more, including James's soloing fall (and it's aftermath) in Joshua Tree, a wee bit of politics, how James and Nina met, how the hell Nina manages her fear on highballs like Ambrosia out in Bishop, micro-penises, and a tiny toe dip into "Free Solo." As mentioned during the pod, here are some interviews with Nina and James from other podcasts. You should listen to them, too. Nina on Training Beta here and Basecamp here and The Enormocast here. James on The Enormocast here, here, and here. Finally, thank you to Ryne Doughty for the rad music! Check him out...or become a musical pariah...here! Notes: Originally recorded in early October, 2018. James, to my knowledge, has never fiddled around with dynamite.